Invasion of the Preps
by allienelson
Summary: Can Fang be contained by a highschool preppy cheerleader girl who is in league with erasers?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I am going to try to convince the girl who had this conversation to post the actually conversation. You will appreciate this much more. **

**Also, I know this is completely out of character, but the entire thing was written off of the idea of the conversation my two friends had. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Max, Fang, or their wings. Those are JP's. Secondly, the idea about him being trapped in this girl's house isn't mine. It was OMRD-obsessive maximum ride disorder and this other girl who doesn't have a fan fiction account. **

**Claimer: I did add a few things in that weren't in the conversation to make it a better story. No need in saying it all. So yea, I guess review. **

**I know it's not that good, and also that I am a sucky writer, but I had to write this because the actual conversation was hysterical :) **

Chapter 1

Fang's P.O.V.

I think I just woke up. I know about three things for sure. Maybe four. One, its dark. Like

really dark. Second, I'm a little bit cold. Third, Max is not here. Like at all. And finally,(which I guess makes four) I can "feel", like that odd feeling you get when you know something is wrong, that some weird girl is looking at me and randomly bursting out in dysfunctional, uncontrolled giggles. I hope that's not normal or anything. She desperately needs to learn how to control her emotions.

Randomly, and I mean out of the blue random(which is like a step down from random,_ random_), she turns a round about and leaves.

Just like that.

After staring at me,(and what looks like drooling but I could be wrong because it is dark) she decides to leave. Its like, hello? Don't you have anything better to do than look at me for an hour. In the DARK!? Well, obviously not. Regular humans can't even see that well in the dark I don't think.

It's been too long. I can't remember how I got here. Bad situation. Very bad situation. If only Max were here. I don't even know how I got myself into this situation, much less if it was on my own accord. The random girl keeps coming back, but I decide not to give her the pleasure of speaking too her. Trust me, if you saw what she looked like after just _looking _at me whilst sitting on a chair then you can probably imagine what would happen if she heard my voice. Or saw my 8 pack… eww, just the thought of that is a bit frightening if you know what I mean.

Oh, and if you are wondering why I haven't just stood up and walked away, the answer to that would be because there are about 50 Ereasers outside her window eating lunch. No joke, they are eating lunch around her flower beds. Apparently I am safe as long I stay inside the house. It's crazy. I think I'm captive in a loony bin.

I hear a gentle whisper that's like flying to my taped up wings. "Fang?" It was Max, I would know her voice anywhere. My leader, my guardian, my protection, my best friend. But most of all, my _soul mate._ Not this girl keeping me locked up. I know we are just 14, but it was destined before we were born. And don't worry, we act normal around each other, just like brother and sister, for now.

"Fang, where are you? I'm worried." Call me crazy, but I know I've heard her say those same exact words before.

"Sound familiar?" asked a voice I didn't recognize but would soon grow bored from its annoyingness/stalkerness/oddness/high-pitchedness/repedaness jabbering.

Could it be de ja vu? How was I supposed to remember _every_ single word Max said. Granted, I cling to them for dear life every minute of the day. But I don't _remember _them all.

"Muahahahahahaha! It's a recording. Aren't I so evil!" The girl talking to me, which I realized lacked a name, allowed a second laugh, this time it took the form of a low chuckle and malicious grin began to slip through her defenses. Ha, catch the pun? Never mind, I'm not going to explain it. But I still don't know why this odd little girl would hold me captive, or whatever she called keeping me in the pitch black freaking darkness with her. And her Barbie's.

Have you ever been in a room for say, oh about a week getting "fed" (yes, with a spoon) and everything with the lights turned off? Don't worry, you get used to the bib. My favorite is the Cookie Monster one. Well anyways, I have. And let me tell you this, when they flick the lights back on, its unearthly and excruciatingly painful. Just a little FYI. Now, imagine someone asking you a bunch of questions right after doing this. Yes, I'm about to enlighten you upon how that feels. Just wait.

"Fang, Fang, Fang, Fang, Fangggggggggggggggg!" ugh, the same obnoxious girl again. "Do you wanna go to school today with me?" she inquired with too much enthusiasm. Total preppy, rich girl.

Stop and think. You know everything she has done to me so far, well, almost. Would you leave the house after that?! Heck to the no way out on Jupiter! I may be blinded currently, I may on the ground rolling around like a mad man-bird freak, but I am not one to be fooled. Nope, I'm one to not notice her slipping valium into my food at breakfast! I know what you're thinking, oh my freaking gosh. And just a little news flash, I was thinking OH MY FREAKING GOSH! Yea, same tran of thought, except that I'm like actually here. Big problemo. And sure, valium, no biggie right? Naw, bigger biggie than your biggest biggie french fry supersized. Do you know what that stuff does to you? And no, not the fries, the Valium. If you do not, I will describe the side effects momentarily at the bottom of the chapter so I recommend that you peek down there a second just so that you are in the loop.) Okay, so like there I am in this horrible situation, and you know what she decides to do? she decides to not take no for an answer and says, "Oh by the way Fang, my name is Morgan and I took the liberty in preparing for you visit(A FREAKING VISIT?!-thought by me of course)and bought you some clothes so you could join me at school. And don't worry about fitting in, I already have a place arranged for you at lunch. But the all black has got to go."

You probably know me pretty well, or you wouldn't be reading this, but she obviously doesn't. No black? Is she crazy? Well, okay, probably. That was a really bad rhetorical question. I truly believe she needs to go to a loony house. But that is just based off of a little bit of personal opinion. And a lot personal experience, which if you ask me is usually pretty good, hard evidence.

As she scampered off to her closet, I got the first seriously life threatening shock of my life. Her closet was filled with the preppiest clothes I think anyone, anywhere has ever seen. Even nudge (I guesss I had summed her up pretty good. See paragraph 8, sentence 3, page. 2.). Morgan, which I find a very delightful name absolutely wasted on her, then proceeded to explain to me all sorts of things I have no care for. Do you know what argyle is? If not, you are extremely lucky. Do not google it. Do not pass go, do not collect $200 dollars. Go straight to jail. Ha, if only. I would rather be anywhere but here. Well, anywhere but here and the School at least.

If you noticed earlier, I numbered that whole experience. I numbered it the first. Now prepare yourself for the second. I might just put a picture at the end, just so you can feel the horror it brings to children across America. Morgan had decided that it would be appropriate if I wore a pair of faded jeans with a few rips and holes in them. Of course, she gave me the choice of that or a pair of khaki shorts. It's like, Earth to Morgan, come on Sherlock! It's the freaking middle of winter! Where did she get them I put serious thought, the Salvation Army?

She saw my distaste. "What? Are you not the type who wears rips in their jeans? I just figured because you normally dress all emo and mysterious like."

"People actually put holes in their clothes? Like on purpose?" I almost stuttered the last bit. I do not stutter… EVER.

"Yea, well, not people like me. I'm a goody two shoes, but most people do."

"If you were getting any ideas of how I prefer to dress based on what you see me wearing, remember that I don't take to many shopping trips during the year. And also, the holes come from fighting flyboys and other random things."

"Really?" she gasped. It looked like she had just suffered true horror. And she hasn't even seen my wings outstretched yet. This was going to be fun.

"No, I'm lying to you. Of course that's how it happened. I'm not like in a gang. What do you think I am? Some Mexican? Nope, just an ordinary flock member. But that doesn't count."

The look on her face was priceless. _But you've really got to stop talking to her. _I reminded myself. She moved in a daze now, not really knowing what to expect. Big shocker there. Only one person always knows what I am going to do next.

"Where's Max?" I demanded. I gave her the glare, glare. Yes, not just the glare, but the one you sometimes get in Spanish class when your talking or something and someone turns around to look at you but its something really stupid that I want to beat someone up after receiving. Yea, that kind of glare.

I heard an intake of breath. Her heartbeat sped up faster. I knew Max was okay, I can feel it. Always can, but I wanted to know _where_ Max was. I wanted to _be_ with Max. Not this oddball. For the first time, I studied my surroundings with an eagles eye, or really a raptors eye. I was starting to regain my vision back fully and noticed weird objects laying around the room. Metal forks, pictures of wombats, preppy trinkets, and Backstreet Boys CD's. It was a disgusting sight.

"Fang dear, hurry up and put these on or we'll be later for school than I usually am. Hurry now!"

Did she just call me Fang dear? The recollection of that sent shivers up my spine. As I looked towards her bed where she had laid out what she assumed I would be wearing, I laughed the hardest I think I have ever laughed. Well, I know to those of you who are thinking, oh my, he might have giggle. Naw, this was like a classified hehe. Not quite a haha, but a hehe none the less. The thought of this quickly dimmed my laughter, oh how I wished Max were here to share this moment with me. If she had seen the chocolate brown and pink Ralph Lauren polo and Izod golfing shorts, she would have bent doubled over in laughter for a month minimum. And that is without even considering showing her the holey jeans. She might have to get some Hydrocodone or Valium after seeing those. The shirt reminded me of Swiss chocolate, or Max's precious, rich, caramel brown eyes for that matter. Again, my heart dropped about a foot longing for her again. If only Morgan didn't have these stupid erasers around the house then I would just freaking escape, but no. I'm being held a stupid pathetic little hostage! Its maddening let me tell you. Looking at the rest of my outfit, my eyes slid down past my khaki knee length shorts/"pants that shouldn't be called pants", past a belt I found very unattractive and very not black, my eyes refocused on a pair of shoes. Not just any shoes. Preppy shoes. As in, an "emo"(according to some) dressing kid wearing Sperries or Walubies. Oooh, she gave me a choice. Yay(note my sarcasm thick as sweet tea). Does she want a piece of me? Well let me tell ya, it ain't gonna happen. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. Especially with this outfit.

"Pookey Bear!"

_Is she talking to me?!_

"I told you to get dressed. Do I have to go get Don-Don to 'help' you?"

_Who the heck is Don-Don?!_

"Ohhhhh Don-Donnnnnnn. Can you come give Fang a hand getting ready for school?" she said in a sing song voice. How classic.

I quickly glanced over my shoulder. Bad idea. He was taller than any Eraser I had ever seen! What in the heck was he?! I'd easily give 6'8 ½" to him without approaching generous or it's fine line. "Don't worry about it Morgan, I'll uhh take care of it. I don't need to meet Don-Don't or whatever his name is."

"Are you sure? He's a very nice thing. I just met him the other day," she tucked her head closer to me, she actually smelled really nice, and whispered in a sincere voice, "But I think he has a speech impediment." _A who-wa-what?_ "Never mind Don-Don." She chorused through her wall and traveled down the hall into the kitchen.

I heard an odd grunting noise in the background in acknowledge to her denial of his "helpful services." As I tried to gulp down my pride as fast I could, I tried on the shirt. It actually felt, nice. Like all ironed and the folds were nice and neat and pretty. Oh and don't even get me started on the shoes. They felt like walking in heaven. I could totally dig this style. I usually went with black because I was really bad at matching(don't you dare tell Nudge!), but this didn't seem to hard. Just find a pair of khaki pants/or holey jeans apparently and a shirt, no problemo. I wonder what Max will think. Hmmm, hard call. And I got lost in thought trying to imagine her reactions until she came back and ruined my daydream.

_Help, anyone? Please, I, Fang, am begging…yes, begging. _

**A/N: **

**Valium: oh, where to start? You get doped up. You loose your freaking mind. And, oh, yea, you are basically high and mumble all sorts of gibberish you mean but will deny all of it later. Trust me, you will. **

**Doesn't sound too bad, does it? Right, ha!**

**Uhhh, review I guess…**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**A/N I have no problem with emo kids(or adults for that matter. keep on hatin'), I don't have issues with shims. It's a lifestyle choice. Also, I realized I didn't say this last chapter, I don't have problems with Hispanics either. Also, I have nothing against Asians and their shortness. Just so we are clear.**

**I want to thank my good friend Susan for editing slash giving me points to fix this up. Also, she is laughing at me while I put this, but she deserves it because my story had big problems before she basically attacked it. Yea, it was that rough, haha jk.**

**Disclaimer: not mine(excluding the plots runawayness from the original reason for writing) also, I do not own the song Smooth by Santana. **

**Claimer: ummmm, torturing fang this badly is my and all my idea. Hehe I **_**am **_**evil. And I like it. Review!**

Okay, so I won't go into details at this moment, but I will give you a little debriefing of what happened today at her "school." An Emo girl, yes, an Emo gay _shim_, hit on me. Not pretty. Especially my stuttering back of how not only was I "straight" but that I was totally not interested. And the worst part, she(Morgan) denies it, but I know Morgan set it up. Of this I am sure. I shall have revenge. Just wait.

So as I was brought, well, more like dragged, to her house, and she snidely commented on how I needed a shower. Its not my fault I don't get those everyday! Blame Max, haha just kidding. Don't do that, she is a very good "Mom."

So, the Flock and I never grew up with the luxury of telephones, but apparently Morgan did. A girl I met at lunch, don't even ask yet, I'm still not over the mental trauma they all caused, asked me way too many questions. I feel like they reeked havoc on me worse than Angel does on fish and sharks. I hope it is not permanent. But anyways, Morgan called Taylor apparently and they were talking about guess what? Oh, good guess, your right. Me.

She threw something my way and I caught it, but she didn't even notice. She was too busy putting that Backstreet Boys CD in. This was going to be tough. I looked down in my hands and saw what she had given me _Old Spice?_ What the heck was that? I considered asking her, but thought better of it. "I'll be back." I mumbled and slipped out of her room and into the bathroom. It always smelled so nice, I think it was her shampoo. I read the directions and other small print on the back. _Uses: used primarily to deodorize? What in the world does that mean? Directions: apply directly onto skin generously under the arm. Not that hard_ I thought. So as I stood there in the bathroom, I took of the lid to my "deodorant" and tried to try it on. Hmmm, directly under the arm could mean one of two things, one, my forearm, two, well, duh, my underarm. But that would be way to simple. I went with the forearm. It had said, "Apply generously" so I put on a LOT. Lets put it this way, it was visible. And it was the clear gel kind.

***Five minutes later as Fang listens in on their conversation.***

"Fang is taking a shower by himself?! Like inside your house?" Taylor asked, purely shocked. I'm 15! It's like, do you still have to have help to take your showers? "Yea, those Erasers are very loyal and forthcoming. But he is taking a pretty long time…" Duh, its HOT water. I bet you have never had a cold shower in your life because you're a preppy, little rich girl but I'll save you the trouble. It isn't fun in the least. "No, I mean like you trust him in there. By himself?"

Morgan's P.O.V.

Taylor questioned my judgment. Oh crap. She was right. What have I done!? "Fang, what are you doing?" I asked hoping that I wasn't about to get one of the biggest shocks of my life.

"Showering." He replied curtly with surprisingly no emotion. Just kidding. Hmpppff.

"Make sure you tell him not to flood the bathroom." I couldn't tell if it was an order, or sincere enough that I shouldn't blow off. I sat and pondered this for a few seconds before I felt just how stupid I actually was. FANG was in MY house. Using MY bathroom. Trying to ESCAPE. And I was NOT going to let that happen.

I realize this is starting to become habit, but here goes. Oh crap. She was right. Yet again. "FANG, NO FLOODING MY HOUSE!!!!! GOT THAT?" "He better have gotten that. If he didn't he was going to not be getting a lot of things real quick. Like tons of hugs from me! He loves them soooooo much!" I told Taylor with pure confidence. "No, shake your head up and down! Wrong way! Bad boy! Bad Fang! Stop it right NOW! Go die in a hole. Or at least cry or something!" He just ignored me and kept sitting there. Yea, I got the best of him.

This is a bad sign. I hear water going down the drain. A lot of water. Good thing I took Taylor's advice on that one. Well, I mean it's a major relief to know nothing bad will happen.

"You know he can still flood the house even thought the tub is not stopped up?" does she never run out of ideas?! Stop telling him all this. You know he is on the same chat page. "I thought he was in the shower?" she said not connecting 1 and 2. "He obviously took a quickie. Right Fang?" I said talking over my shoulder.

"Right." He said looking over his shoulder because he was in the same exact room. My bedroom. No, not like that. I just didn't want to be with the family.

Morgan: you know boyfriends and family don't mix. ever.

"I'm not your boyfriend. Ever." He said, looking over is shoulder to mock my thoughts from earlier and I realized that I had written on the chat page. "Smooth. Real smooth." He said as he typed that into the chat room.

Fang: smooth, real smooth

Morgan: cause it's the same as the emotion that I get from you.

Taylor: you've got the kind of loving that can be so smooth

Morgan: give me your heart make it real

Fang: or else forget about it!

Taylor: omg how do you know that song!

Fang: nudge kinda grew on me

Morgan: we should so have a morganoke night this week

Taylor: brilliant idea #11?

Fang: stupid idea # 987,654,321

Morgan: fang, what did I say about that

Fang: nothing *trembles in feigned fear*

Taylor: something along the lines of go die in a hole I think

Morgan: hey that's right

Taylor: go me. not fang

Fang: I rock ten times more than you do

Taylor: do not

Morgan: does too

Taylor: hey, stay out of it "mrs. im in love with fang forever and our lovers name is kang!

Fang: don't think just cause you are sticking up for me i am going to be your boyfriend

Morgan: it was worth a try…

Taylor: your pathetic. really pathetic

Morgan: shush now.

Fang: girl fight. FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!

Taylor: how can we fight? it's a chat room!

Fang: verbally?

Morgan: Taylor stutters

Taylor: at least i don't talk in my sleep

Morgan: at least im not shorter than all the asians

Fang: come on, yall can do better than this…

Taylor: shut up fang!

Morgan: stay out of it fang!

Taylor: morgan's so ugly when a bird flies past it stops flying!

Morgan: Taylor's so ugly when she goes shopping, they put her face in the recycle bin!

Taylor: morgan's so bad at comebacks, she gets lost in her own head!

Morgan: Taylor is so stupid, she thinks she's smart! Ohhhhh, burn

Fang: officially not a burn

Morgan: i thought it was good

Taylor: our point exactly

_Morgan has left_

Taylor: bye fang

_Taylor has left_

Fang: great, im all alone…

_Fang has left_

**A/N so sorry it took so long, I was totally not in the mood to write. I hope yall like it, and sorry for the oocness. I like it. REVIEW PLEASE!**


End file.
